


Between Two Hard Places

by Fledgling



Series: Maturity [5]
Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: M/M, PWP, Smut, Sticky Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-24
Updated: 2013-01-24
Packaged: 2017-11-26 19:05:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/653458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fledgling/pseuds/Fledgling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Smokescreen has been watching Optimus all day. Needless to say, he gets a little turned on by his gorgeous lover. And Optimus knows all too well what he does to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Between Two Hard Places

Smokescreen stretched, arms rising above his head. Monitor duty, one of the most boring tasks he could think of. But, everyone had to take a turn at it. Didn't mean they had to like it though.  
From the edge of his vision, Smokescreen could watch as Optimus talked to Ratchet. He smiled. The mech was gorgeous, undeniably. The way the low lights of the base caught his paint, to the way he carried himself, he was breathtaking. And he was just as gorgeous on the inside. He had a spark that cared for all walks of life, that could love unconditionally despite all he had seen, and a brilliant mind. He was an amazing leader too. He did not see himself as higher or lower than those in his command, and he always tried to make sure that a plan came through with minimum casualties.  
Smokescreen sighed, turning his focus back to the monitors. He was a lucky mech, to have a lover like that. He knew that many would kill to have a lover like that; many more would kill to bed the Prime himself!  
A small smirk danced across Smokescreen's features as he absentmindedly rubbed the fading dents on one of his thighs. Optimus could be as wild in the berth as he could be in battle. Smokescreen had dents to prove it. But he could be gentle and loving as well, when the mood was right for it.  
Another quick glance gifted Smokescreen with- oh. That was _quite_ a lovely sight. His leader had such a nice aft, and bending over just made it all the nicer. Smokescreen shivered, checking the time. He didn't have much longer on monitor duty. Good. He didn't know how much more of this he could take.  
He was surprised when the terminal beeped at him, making him jump. He quickly checked what the beep was from. Proximity sensors. Smokescreen tensed, then relaxed. The signal belonged to Bumblebee, returning from taking the children somewhere.  
A hand gripping his shoulder made him turn slightly, stopped from fully turning by a kiss pressed to the side of his helm. He sagged back into the warm body behind him.  
"Optimus." He greeted warmly. A deep rumble answered him, an arm wrapping around his waist, his servo rubbing the plating under it. They stood in comfortable silence for a few moments, before Optimus' spoke.  
"When will you be finished with monitor duty?" He asked. An innocent enough question, accept that his servo seemed to be drifting just a little lower...  
Smokescreen hissed, arching into the servo rubbing over his interface panel. "A-a few kilks..."  
"Good." Optimus rumbled. He then quickly untangled them, putting plenty of space between them. He turned, and walked away, heading down the corridor that led to their quarters. "Come see me when you're done." He called over his shoulder, before disappearing. Smokescreen stared, before uttering a combination of a whine and a groan. He glared at the Ratchet as the medic chuckled.  
"Ya mind, doc?"  
Ratchet looked at him, his laughter seeming to increase. He waved the younger mech off, shaking his head. "Go on to him, Smokescreen. I'll give you a break this time."  
Smokescreen brightened. "Thanks Ratchet!" He said, sprinting after their Prime.  
Ratchet chuckled, going back to his work. He remembered what it was like to be young. He also remembered skipping out on his classes when he was still in medical training on Cybertron for a quick frag with a certain engineer... Ratchet smiled. Those were good times.  
Smokescreen reached his and Optimus' shared room in record time. He punched in the access code with a quivering servo, his whole body shivering in anticipation and arousal. He stepped into the room, the door sliding closed behind him and locking. The only light in the room came from Smokescreen's own optics and the ones staring at him predatorily from the berth. He gasped and shivered. So it was going to be one of those frags.  
"Come here." Optimus commanded, voice deeper than usual. The rumble washed over Smokescreen's plating, smooth as liquid gold, and he was helpless to resist. He walked over to the larger mech in smooth, quiet steps, the only noise in the room the light rattling of his plating as he shivered. He stopped between Optimus' spread legs, looking him in the face. This was one of the only times he could be optic to optic to the other.  
A servo rose to cup his face, stroking the plating. He was pulled into a kiss, lips and glossa meeting in a hot dance. Smokescreen groaned, his servos gripping the Prime's shoulders. A servo gripped one of his hips, tugging him closer. He grunted, moving closer until his knees pressed against the berth. When the servo continued to drag him closer, he put his knees up on the berth, sandwiched between Optimus' thighs and pressing against his heating panel. The larger mech's servos grasped his hips, before gliding back and rubbing against his aft. Smokescreen thrust into the servos, panting softly. Optimus pulled back from the kiss, lowering his helm to attack his neck. Smokescreen tilted his helm back, giving him better room.  
"Optimus... o-oh, Optimus!" He moaned. Those servos were doing delicious things to him, digging into gaps in his plating mercilessly.  
Optimus rumbled approvingly, before pulling back and pressing against Smokescreen's chestplates. "Down."  
Smokescreen complied, scrambling off the berth and then onto his knees with further urging from the other mech. He looked up at Optimus, optics bright. Optimus looked back down at him, petting the side of his helm. The sound of his panel retracting filled the room loudly. "You know what to do." He rumbled.  
Smokescreen smiled. Oh, he knew what to do all right. He placed his hands on his thighs, pushing himself up to be level with the erect spike. He locked optics with the spike's owner, pressing a kiss to the tip of the spike. He slowly took the tip into his mouth, sucking softly. He began to bob his head, taking a little bit more of the spike into his mouth each time. Optimus groaned, placing his servo on top of his helm and urging him down further. Smokescreen complied without complaint, taking the spike as far as he could and working his servo over the rest. Optimus' hips bucked, shallow, jerky movements, his cooling fans kicking on. Smokescreen smirked around his spike.  
Suddenly, Optimus pushed him off his spike. Smokescreen grunted as he fell onto his aft, looking up at Optimus. The mech stood, grabbing Smokescreen and backing him into a wall. He pushed him up, pinning him in place with his chest as his arms hooked under the younger mech's knees, bending them up and spreading his legs to either side of his own.  
"Open your panel, Smokescreen."  
Smokescreen's fans roared to life, and he moaned shakily as he did as he was told. A servo gently pet his thigh, before two digits made themselves at home in his valve.  
"Look at you, and how wet you are. And you’re still stretched from our romp this morning too." Optimus rumbled, looking Smokescreen dead in the optics. Smokescreen shuddered, crying out as the digits curled inside of him. They pulled out, only to be replaced with something _bigger, familiar, and-_  
"Oh, oh, fra-ag!" Smokescreen thrashed his head from side to side, servos gripping Optimus' shoulders in a death grip.  
Optimus wrapped his legs around his waist. "Hold them there." He said as he grabbed his hips. Smokescreen moaned. He'd have dents there tomorrow.  
Optimus set a brutal pace, pounding into him with all he was worth. His mouth attacked Smokescreen's neck again, nipping at the wires and soothing the bites with his glossa. He moved lower, kissing over his chestplates, pausing and pressing his lips over the Autobot symbol.  
"Op-Optimus... uuhn."  
"Smokescreen. I can feel how close you are. And I haven't even touched your spike at all."  
Smokescreen nodded, squirming against the wall. Optimus pressed against him as tightly as he could, leaning over his shoulder and kissing his doorwings. Smokescreen cried out sharply, thrashing. Optimus bit the edge of the wing, his servo smoothing over the front.  
"Yes, you're so close, aren't you?" Optimus purred into his audio receptor, pulling back from the doorwing. "I can tell. I'm close too. Tell me, Smokescreen, do you want me to overload inside of you?" He gave a particularly hard thrust. "Or should I overload you, then set you against the wall and overload all over your face? Hm?"  
Smokescreen cried out, burying his face between Optimus' neck and shoulder. "In-inside of me. Want you, to overload inside..."  
"Very well." Optimus mumbled. "Gonna have to overload all over your pretty little doorwings sometime." He said, tweaking the bottom edge of one. "Would you like that? Overload all over your face and wings, you'd look so lovely covered in my fluids."  
Smokescreen lost it. With a drawn out cry of the semi's name, he overloaded. His spike spurted transfluid, hitting his own abdomen and Optimus'. His valve clenched, lubricant spilling out and coating his thighs. He flopped against Optimus, arms thrown over his shoulders and face pressed between shoulder and neck. His body was listless, fans roaring and body rocking with the rhythm of Optimus' thrusts. A few thrusts later, Optimus overloaded with a roar, transfluid filling him to the brim. Smokescreen shivered and moaned contently.  
They were still for a long time, forehelms pressed together, panting and enjoying the closeness they shared. Optimus slowly stepped back, pulling out and holding onto Smokescreen as he stood again. Smokescreen moaned at the feeling of their combined fluids running out of his valve and down his thighs. He leaned heavily against Optimus, nuzzling against him lazily. He closed his panel, letting Optimus scoop him up and carry him back to the berth. Smokescreen settled with a sigh, half sprawling over Optimus once he had laid down. His optics offlined, and he mumbled incoherently as he drifted off into recharge. Optimus looked down at him fondly, rubbing his back.  
"Recharge well, Smokescreen."


End file.
